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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927151">Eiffel and Jacobi get Trapped in a Storage Closet (a comedy in 5 acts)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriniTea/pseuds/TriniTea'>TriniTea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wolf 359 (Radio)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Humour, I will do anything and everything for CJ, M/M, Romance, Snark, Trini Writes for Steak, pretty self explanatory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:53:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriniTea/pseuds/TriniTea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When helping Jacobi find a part whatever thingamabob he was building, Eiffel <em>may or may not</em> have forgotten that the closet door self locks. And, as luck would have it, they're stuck in a dark, claustrophobic closet together.</p>
<p>Plus, <em>Pryce and Carter's</em>, sitcom laugh tracks, queer-coded Disney villains and definitely not staring.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Doug Eiffel/Daniel Jacobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>143</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Eiffel and Jacobi get Trapped in a Storage Closet (a comedy in 5 acts)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeywisk/gifts">Honeywisk</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Author's Note: IF CJ SAYS THAT HE WANTS SOME GOOD 'OLD T RATED EIFFEL/JACOBI SHENANIGANS, I WILL GIVE HIM SOME GOOD 'OLD T RATED EIFFEL/JACOBI SHENANIGANS!</p>
<p>Follow me on Tumblr (@trinitea-fics)</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Act One</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Effel should have known better than to help Jacobi.</p>
<p>Everything was going great. He was off duty for the next few hours, and was gonna kick back and do whatever you can do to 'relax' in the depths of space where any moment could be your last.</p>
<p>Then Jacobi came to his quarters and was all "<em>Eiffel, I'm looking for this something or rather part for my thingamajig that is most likely a bomb that could blow this whole station to kingdom-come. Can you point me to the storage closet?"</em></p>
<p>(Okay, those weren't his exact words, but he, quite frankly, doesn't care about the details.)</p>
<p>Either way, for some godforsaken reason, Eiffel agreed to help him. Hell, he even went with him to find whatever doohickey he was looking for (well, Jacobi is <em>technically </em>his superior. If he didn't cooperate, Jacobi would probably snitch to Kepler who then would kill him, or Jacobi would just kill him himself).</p>
<p>So there they were, in good 'ol storage closet deltaーone of the lesser used ones, way back in the outer rim of the stationーtrying to find whatever Jacobi wanted. The door to said storage closet happened to be one of those pesky <em>self-locking electronic</em> one. As in, if you're not actively holding it open, the thick, weighted, metal door closes and locks. And as it just so happened, Eiffel forgot about this little, <em>slightly</em> significant detail.</p>
<p>Andーin a cliché sitcom-like fashionーthey got themselves locked in.</p>
<p>Him and Jacobi, locked alone in a claustrophobic, dark, storage closet.</p>
<p>(He was just surprised that there wasn't a studio audience laugh track playing through the station's speakers.)</p>
<p>This.</p>
<p>This is why being 'helpful' helps absolutely no one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hera?" Eiffel's fist pounds against the metal door. "Hera!"</p>
<p>"Oh will you let it go? They can't hear us." Though his face is obscured in the darkness, Eiffel can practically see Jacobi roll his eyes. "The closet is probably soundproofed or something."</p>
<p>"Why the hell would a closet be soundー" he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Nope, never mind. Nothing on this station makes sense anyways, pretend that I didn't ask."</p>
<p>"Relax." Jacobi crosses his arms across his chest. "When Minkowski does her station sweep, she'll pass by and probably hear us."</p>
<p>"Good," Eiffel breaths out a sigh of relief. "And when will that be?"</p>
<p>"I don't know." Jacobi shrugs. "Three hours."</p>
<p>Eiffel has to pick his jaw off of the floor.</p>
<p>"Three hours! What do you mean three hours?!"</p>
<p>"I guess it could be four hours . ."</p>
<p>"Fourー" he cuts himself off, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. "It's alright. Four hours is nothing. What's four hours when you've been stuck in space for six hundred some-what days? This is fine. It's fine. We'll be fine. This is fine."</p>
<p>"That's the spirit Eiffel!" Jacobi says encouragingly.</p>
<p>But there is something about his tone that makes Eiffel believe that they might be a little <em>less than fine.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Act Two</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"How long do you think it's been?" Eiffel asks, just as he is about ready to bang his head against a wall and put himself out of his misery.</p>
<p>"Twenty minutes, give or take."</p>
<p>Eiffel lets out a long, exaggerated groan, rubbing his palms against his eyelids. "Dear lord, what sociopath put an electronic door on a storage closet?" he mutters to himself.</p>
<p>"Oh stop being such a baby Eiffel," Jacobi says. "If you really want me to, I can rig something up to blast the door open. Given the dim lighting it might not be my finest work, but it's doable."</p>
<p>Eiffel raises an eyebrow. "And how high are the chances that it would kill us?"</p>
<p>"Er, considering that the confined spaces aren't ideal, give or take, forty-eight percent," Jacobi says nonchalantly.</p>
<p>Eiffel shoots him a look. "No way! If there is even just a one-percent change that we could die, it ain't worth."</p>
<p>Jacobi furrows his brow. "But eight-fifty-one."</p>
<p>"Eight-fifty what now?" Eiffel asks, the concern emanating in his voice.</p>
<p>"<em>Pryce and Carter's Deep Space Survival Procedure and Protocol Manual</em>: number eight-hundred fifty-one; '<em>If the chances of dying are less than fifty percent, might as well take it.' </em>Man, I thought that Minkowski was running a tighter ship, that is some basic stuff right there," he says, shaking his head in disapproval.</p>
<p>Eiffel lets out a grunt. "I swear, once we get back to Earth I'm going to hunt down, <em>John-Wick-style,</em> whoever Pryce and Carter are and ask them what they were taking when they wrote these," he says, "'<em>If the chances of dying are less than fifty percent, might as well take it</em>', who says that?!"</p>
<p>"Then, <em>Officer Eiffel</em>, I guess we'll just have to wait," Jacobi says, shifting himself into a more comfortable position suspended above the floor.</p>
<p>A painfully long moment of strained silence passes before Jacobi decides to open his mouth again.</p>
<p>"Know any good jokes?"</p>
<p>"No," Eiffel says coldly. Actually, he does know some good jokes. He knows <em>plenty</em> of good jokes. <em>He knows more good jokes per capita than the average American citizen</em>. But he doesn't exactly feel like sharing them with <em>Mr. Wile E Coyote </em>over here.</p>
<p>"So anyways," Jacobi persists, "Two men walk into a bar, the first man . . ." Jacobi's voice fades as Eiffel tunes him out. He <em>really</em> isn't in the mood for this right now.</p>
<p>Maybe Pryce and Carter did have the right idea, fifty percent chance of death sounds rather appealing right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Act Three</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hates this.</p>
<p>He hates everything about this.</p>
<p>Eiffel's arms are folded tightly across his chest, his legs crossed as he drifts in the zero-gravity. His eyes have since adjusted to the dim light while he's been watching Jacobi kick back as if he's on one of those floaty pool toys. There is a carefree expression on his face that can't help but put Eiffel on edge.</p>
<p>It feels like they've been here forever. And god, it's <em>painful</em>, like '<em>lying on a bed of nails that are also on fire while spiders crawling all over your chest and the walls are slowly closing in on you like it's the trash compactor on the Death Star'</em> kinda painful.</p>
<p>The pain isn't soothed by the fact that Eiffel knows practically nothing about Jacobi. Well, minus the fact that he and the rest of <em>Team Rocket</em> were sent by mustache twirlers at Command to probably kill them. Other than that, nada.</p>
<p>But the funny thing is that if this wasn't the way that they met, he thinks that they'd be, maybe not friends, but they'd at least be on the same wavelength. Jacobi's sarcasm and sense of humour is refreshing, especially with all of this time Eiffel has spent around Minkowski, Hilbert and Lovelace. Okay, maybe Jacobi's personality (that can only be described as '<em>slightly stabby</em>') can be a bit abrasive (aka he can be a <em>total ass</em> sometimes, er, most of the time), but it keeps Eiffel on his toes. When he talks to Jacobi, it doesn't feel like he's talking to a brick wall, like conversations with the other Hephaestus crew members so often feel like. It's . . . kinda nice?</p>
<p>"Careful Eiffel," Jacobi smirks, "You're staring."</p>
<p>Nope. He takes it back. Jacobi is <em>definitely</em> giving off too many '<em>I will light your pillowcase on fire while you sleep just for fun</em>' vibes.</p>
<p>Eiffel, totally inconspicuously, turns his head. "No I'm not," he mutters.</p>
<p>Yeah, he's <em>totally</em> not.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Act Four</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"God I haven't been in the closet since high school," Jacobi says offhandedly, about two hours into their time in captivity.</p>
<p>Eiffel snickers. "Literally or metaphorically?"</p>
<p>"Both."</p>
<p>Eiffel coughs, choking on his own air as he turns to the other man.</p>
<p>Jacobi raises an eyebrow. "Really Eiffel? I thought that my whole being screamed '<em>queer-coded Disney Villain'</em>."</p>
<p>Eiffel blinks, having a momentary mental lapse, before stuttering, "Um, yeah but I didn't want to, you know, make any assumptions or anything."</p>
<p>Jacobi chuckles. But it isn't a '<em>queer-coded Disney Villain'</em> laugh, it's an actual one, <em>genuine</em> almost. And Eiffel finds himself <em>liking</em> the sound of Jacobi's laugh.</p>
<p>Eiffel mentally shakes himself. "What about the literal?" he asks.</p>
<p>"What?" Jacobi shoots him a confused look.</p>
<p>"You said that you were literally in the closet too."</p>
<p>"Oh yeah," Jacobi says bluntly.</p>
<p>A pause.</p>
<p>"Care to elaborate?" Eiffel asks.</p>
<p>"And you want to know because?" Jacobi questions, stretching out the last syllable.</p>
<p>"You can't just give me the set-up without the punchline," he says, "Also I'm bored and I wanna hear about <em>High School Jacobi.</em> <em>High School Jacobi </em>probably skipped P.E. and hid under the bleachers, and was in the marching band and played the piccolo. Oh and <em>totally </em>got suspended for blowing stuff up during chemistry and sent a teacher into early retirement because of all the trauma he caused them." A big, amused smile grows on Eiffel's face, Jacobi on the other hand doesn't seem to share the sentiment, as he gives him the classic <em>death glare</em>.</p>
<p>Jacobi releases a drawn-out sigh, "Are you going to keep pestering me about this?"</p>
<p>Eiffel hums, "I'd say there is an about sixty-percent chance of it."</p>
<p>"Fine," Jacobi grumbles, "And I just want you to know that in high school I was forced to be on the track team, my dad's insistence after I didn't make the football team . . . And I was captain of mathletics and the engineering team."</p>
<p>"Captain of the mathletes?!" Eiffel asks, having difficulty suppressing a laugh.</p>
<p>"Shut up Eiffel," Jacobi says, "Do you want to hear this whole closet thing or not?"</p>
<p>Eiffel closes his mouth, his thumb and pointer finger pressed together, pretending to zip his lips.</p>
<p>Jacobi lets out a breath. "Okay, so in high school I was at a party. Are you familiar with the game '<em>seven minutes in heaven'</em>?"</p>
<p>"Of course, from the Jennifer Garner classic <em>'13 Going on 30'</em>."</p>
<p>Eiffel can see Jacobi restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "So anyways, high school, playing seven minutes in heaven at a party. I got stuck in the closet with this kid, Jackson Powell, who was basically a walking high school cliché; hot-headed football quarterback, stupidly buff and handsome for a seventeen year old, probably had less brain cells than snail, the whole package. At the time I was out, not 'loud and proud', but everyone knew and I didn't care. And it was all '<em>oh the scrawny gay kid and the testosterone filled jock are gonna be stuck in a closet together! Oooh what's gonna happen?!'</em>. I honestly thought that he was gonna beat the shit out of me."</p>
<p>Eiffel's face falls. "That's terrible."</p>
<p>Jacobi shrugs. "It was all cool. The first five-ish minutes were awkward as hell. I was scared of him, and I honestly think he was a little scared of me. But all of a sudden he grabbed me by the hem of my shirt and <em>kissed me</em>, my first kiss nonetheless. And it was just me and the most popular kid in school, making out as quietly as humanly possible 'cause we knew for certain that the other kids had their ears against the other side of that door. Then after the seven minutes were up, we walked out of that closet like nothing happened. We never talked about it, we graduated and I haven't seen him since."</p>
<p>"Wow," Eiffel stares at him dumbfound. "That's sounds likeー"</p>
<p>"The plot of a terrible teen rom-com?" Jacobi says. "Yeah, I know."</p>
<p>"All we need is a makeover sequence and an evil cheerleader squad, then we'll be golden," Eiffel jokes, "Kepler can be <em>Regina George</em>."</p>
<p>It's a terribly on-the-nose joke, hell, he doesn't even know if it qualifies as an actual joke, but Jacobi laughs. It's this loud, full-belled, infectious laugh and Eiffel can't help but laugh too. The image of the Colonel strutting down the space station in a full-pink ensemble does bring a smile to his face. Plus the idea that Kepler keeps his own <em>Burn Book</em> about the Hephaestus crew members doesn't seem too far fetched.</p>
<p>After a moment, Eiffel brings himself down from his laughing fit and says, "But don't think that this is a '<em>seven minutes in heaven' </em>sorta situation, this is more like '<em>two and a half hours in hell'</em>."</p>
<p>"Oh I wouldn't dream of it," Jacobi smirks.</p>
<p>Maybe it's the two-for-one combo of it being dark and them being stuck in a confined space for hours on end, but Eiffel swears that he sees Jacobi <em>wink</em> at him.</p>
<p>(And he definitely doesn't feel a warm glow on his cheeks. <em>Definitely not.</em>)</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Act Five</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eiffel's head is leaned back, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to focus on something to prevent him from falling asleep.</p>
<p>"I wish that this place had a window," Eiffel says aloud, mainly to himself.</p>
<p>"You wish that a storage closet had windows?" Jacobi relays, articulating his word slowly.</p>
<p>Eiffel looks at the other man. "I mean, it would make our stay at <em>Hotel Storage Closet </em>a little more bearable."</p>
<p>"But with all of the complaining, I thought that you wouldn't want the constant reminder of the <em>life-draining vacuum of space</em>."</p>
<p>Eiffel shrugs. "I act like I am. As much as I would do anything to get off this space station-shaped piñata, the view from the observation deck as we slowly orbit Wolf 359 . . ." A small smile grows on Eiffel's lips, "There just isn't anything like it."</p>
<p>Jacobi shifts, moving so that he's beside Eiffel. "I never thought that space travel was in cards for me. I wasn't one of those kids that went to space camp, or had glow-in-the-dark star on their bedroom ceiling, or any of that crap. But I will say, it is beautiful."</p>
<p>"Then how did you get picked up by Goddard?" Eiffel asks.</p>
<p>Jacobi raises an eyebrow, shooting Eiffel a look. "What is this? The 'Q and A' portion of our evening?"</p>
<p>"No, it's just that if you didn't think that space was gonna be your thing, combined with the fact that an explosives specialist isn't exactly something that is required on most space stations," Jacobi hums in agreement, "I was just curious how you got involved with this traveling circus," Eiffel says.</p>
<p>Jacobi nods, turning his head to the opposite wall. "Well, my dad was, what shall I say? You know, <em>just a tad</em> <em>disappointed</em> that I didn't have the eyesight to join the Air Force. So I left home as soon as humanly possible to study out of state, and went to MIT for post-grad. Then I finally got my spot in the Air Force doing ballistics R'n'D. It was alright, too much red tape and bureaucratic bullshit for my tastes, but I got my explosives and my dad started to actually talk to me again.</p>
<p>"But I let go after an accident that . . . that cost two of my coworker's lives, good people and I . . ." he pauses, "My career was basically over. There aren't any flags bigger or redder than it saying 'two people died under his watch' on your resume," he lets out a long exhale, "I hit rock bottom and somehow was finding ways to <em>dig even deeper</em>. Then out of nowhere Kepler picked me up, recruited me to SI-5, and gave me a purpose. The rest is history I guess, haven't looked back since." There is an ease that returns to his tone and a slight upturn of the corners of his lips.</p>
<p>"Aww, Daniel Jacobi <em>does</em> have a heart, even if it's made of C-4," Eiffel coos.</p>
<p>"Very funny." He turns back to the other man. "How about you?"</p>
<p>He purses his lips together. "Well <em>that's</em> a story . . ."</p>
<p>"You wanted me to spill my heart out? Now it's your turn."</p>
<p>Eiffel sighs.</p>
<p>What the hell? It isn't like there's anything better to do.</p>
<p>"So just before my daughter was bornー"</p>
<p>"Doug Eiffel? A father?" Jacobi interrupts, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.</p>
<p>Eiffel nods, accompanied by a soft smile. "Yeah. My little girl, Anne, she's my whole world. But I wasn't deserving of a '<em>world's best dad'</em> mug, far from it actually. Iー" He exhales. "I had a drinking problem, a bad one, like '<em>sitcom husband</em>' levels of bad. I was able to sober up for her, but then I had <em>just one bad day</em> and needless to say, I relapsed . . ."</p>
<p>He briefly glances to Jacobi's hand that has found its way onto his shoulder. "It's okay Eiffel, you don't have you talk about it if you don't want to."</p>
<p>"No Iー" he pauses before continuing. "I thought that it was a genius move, breaking into my ex's house and kidnapping my daughter. I thought that it was the only way I was going to see her. I didn't even get into the highway before we got into an accident with another car. And because of me, one of the passengers in the other car is wheel-chair bound for the rest of their life and Anne is permanently deaf because of cranial trauma. But me? I came out on the other side without so much as a scratch."</p>
<p>He looks down at his hands that are folded in his lap. "Before I could be sentenced, I was approached by Mr. Cutter. He told me that the good folks at Goddard would cover all of Anne's expenses and I would be offered full release if I signed on to the Hephaestus mission. Only now do I realize that they wanted me here so Hilbert could pump me with his science fair project.</p>
<p>"I don't know if Cutter is keeping his promise, but if it means that Anne is getting everything she needs, it would have all been worth it." Eiffel takes a breath, like he just ran a marathon. He looks back to Jacobi.</p>
<p>"You're right, that's one hell of a story," Jacobi says, but not condescendingly so, it sounds more like sympathy to Eiffel's ears.</p>
<p>"Really? Cutter didn't tell you all of this so you'd have blackmail material over me?"</p>
<p>"I heard the cliff notes, that Mr. Cutter picked you up before you were sentenced, didn't know the details though," Jacobi says, "I'm . . . I'm sorry if I pushed."</p>
<p>Eiffel shakes his head. "Nah, it was good to get it off my chest. I haven't been able to talk about it with anyone. Between Minkowski, Hilbert and Lovelace, none of them are exactly the '<em>warm and fuzzy</em>' type," Eiffel shrugs, "So thanks for that, I guess."</p>
<p>That being said, Jacobi isn't exactly the 'warm and fuzzy' type either, but Eiffel feels this magnetic pull towards him that he can't quite explain. It's almost as if he <em>trusts</em> Jacobi.</p>
<p>He watches Jacobi think for a moment, before the other man says, "I don't know what kind of person you were two years ago, but the Doug Eiffel of today? He doesn't seem like a terribly bad guy, probably doesn't make the top three in terms of terrible people on this station." Jacobi offers a small smile.</p>
<p>Eiffel has every reason in the world to think that Jacobi is just saying this to try to convert him to Team Goddard, a 'sympathy for the devil' sorta situation. And maybe Eiffel is just doing some wishful thinking, but he thinks that Jacobi is telling him the truth. Sure, Jacobi isn't some white knight, but his sarcastic-ass doesn't seem like the type that would fake sympathy unless he really meant it. Otherwise he wouldn't care for playing nice, even if it would be to his benefit.</p>
<p>"Thanks," Eiffel says, "And despite the craziness going on, Daniel Jacobi might not be the maniacal, cat petting, super villain that I initially thought he was."</p>
<p>He laughs again in that stupidly charming way. "Whatever you say Officer Eiffel, whatever you say."</p>
<p>It's only now when Eiffel realizes how close they're together. He prays that he's the only one that can hear his heart beating in his chest, as it's easily become the loudest sound pounding in his ears. Without thinking, his eyes flicker down to Jacobi's lips, but before he can catch himself a <em>Cheshire Cat-</em>like smirk grows on Jacobi's face.</p>
<p>"I thought you said that this wasn't going to become a game of 'seven minutes in heaven' Officer Eiffel," Jacobi challenges, cocking his head to the side, moving ever so closer to him. Eiffel can feel the other man's breath on his lips.</p>
<p>"Shut up Jacobi." Eiffel leans closer, his eyes lulling close. Their lips brush against each other. It's a touch so light that he wouldn't even call it a kiss. Eiffel's hand finds itself on the back of Jacobi's head. He's about to pull him even closer andー</p>
<p>The door opens suddenly. The light from the hallway is temporarily blinding to Eiffel and Jacobi who break apart like a scared flock of birds.</p>
<p>"Eiffel! Jacobi! What the hell are you doing in here?!" barks Commander Minkowski.</p>
<p>"What nothingー"</p>
<p>"ーSir we justー"</p>
<p>"ーNo we'reー"</p>
<p>"Stop!" Minkowski interrupts. As Eiffel's eyes adjust to the light, he can better make out the mixed look of confusion and anger on his commanding officer's face. "Eiffel I've been trying to contact you for the past twenty minutes. So can one of you <em>please</em> explain to me what you're doing in a closet?"</p>
<p>Eiffel glances over to Jacobi, who looks unwilling to open his mouth.</p>
<p>"Umm," Eiffel hums, his head turning back to Minkowski. "We were just looking some doodad that Jacobi wanted and we accidentallyー"</p>
<p>Jacobi clears his throat.</p>
<p>"<em>I</em> accidentally forgot that this is a self-locked door and <em>may </em>have got us locked inside."</p>
<p>Minkowski rolls her eyes, not seeming surprised by the incident. "Just get out of there."</p>
<p>"Yes sir."</p>
<p>"Yes Minkowski."</p>
<p>She holds open the door as they filed out one after another. Minkowski closes the door, not bothering to ask if Jacobi got the part he needed.</p>
<p>"Eiffel, I need your help in the communications room in five minutes, don't be late," she says, her voice in its regular, sharp cadence.</p>
<p>"Yes commander," Eiffel replies.</p>
<p>Minkowski's eyes narrow, flicker back and forth between the two men. "Good," she says before turning and leaving for the communications room.</p>
<p>Once Minkowski is out of their sight line, Eiffel looks to Jacobi. But before he is able to say anything, Jacobi grabs him by the hem of his shirt and kisses him, hard and full on the mouth. Eiffel freezes under his touch, and before his brain can catch up so he can deepen the kiss, Jacobi's lips are already gone.</p>
<p>"Don't worry Officer Eiffel." He lets go of his shirt, his lips are still less than an inch away from Eiffel's. "I don't kiss and tell," Jacobi winks before turning on his heels and heading in the opposite direction.</p>
<p>Eiffel stares dumbfound as he watches Jacobi turn the corner.</p>
<p>His fingertips brush against his lips, the buzzing warmth still lingering under his touch.</p>
<p>"Huh," is all he can muster.</p>
<p>Maybe getting stuck in a closet with Jacobi for three and a half hours wasn't so bad after all.</p>
<p>(He just wishes that he made his move sooner.)</p>
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